


Bound to the Altar

by locusinbloom (Fractual_Visions)



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Bondage, Dubious Consent, F/M, Public Humiliation, community: naughtylokiconfessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 15:16:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1189932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fractual_Visions/pseuds/locusinbloom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Done for the <a href="http://naughtylokiconfessions.tumblr.com">Naughty Loki Confessions</a> blog of which I am a devoted follower.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Bound to the Altar

**Author's Note:**

> Done for the [Naughty Loki Confessions](http://naughtylokiconfessions.tumblr.com) blog of which I am a devoted follower.

You had always dreamed of meeting Loki in the flesh. Imagined it in exquisite, heart-racing detail. He would be suave and charming. He would sweep you off your feet. You would be cool and nonchalant. You would act like ancient Norse gods always tried to seduce you. A new attempt each week, at least.

When Loki showed up in your dining room, his presence dark and commanding and filling the whole room with shadows, you dropped your tea. It splattered all over your pants and sweater. The mug bounced off the floor and rolled under the table.

"My god!" You squealed. "Oh, my god!"

On your hands and knees now, scrambling under the table to pick up the fallen mug.

"I’m sorry— I just— well, I wasn’t expecting you tonight. I mean, I didn’t think you were real. No! I mean, I knew you were real, I just didn’t know you were real, real, like really real—" babbling, stop babbling!

You grabbed the mug and tried to stand up. Still under the table, your head caught the underside with a resounding crack.

"Ouch, ouch, ouch!" You scooted backwards until you were free, seated on your ass and covered in cooling tea stains.

Loki stared down at you. He may have been smiling, it was hard to tell. In all the pictures, he seemed so human. Here, staring up at him from the floor, he really, really did not. His eyes blazed green, lit from within, and shadows clung to him like living creatures.

"Why are you here?" You asked.

He lifted his upturned palms and his shoulders, an elegant casual shrug.

"Why should I not choose to visit my faithful subjects here in Midgard? In Asgard, there are so few of them." His voice was amused and bitter in equal measure. "I tire of Thor’s delusions of heroism. I wish to be in the company of those who know to whom it is that Midgard belongs."

"Yes,” you nodded quickly, “it belongs to you, Loki."

"Then do you obeisance!"

You awkwardly shuffled off your ass, into a kneeling position. You didn’t know what to do with your hands, so you tucked them behind your back and hoped that would be good enough.

Loki glanced meaningfully at his feet. You didn’t quite know what that meant, but you decided to go with your instincts. You shuffled closer and leaned forward, hands still clasped behind your back. You kissed his boots.

He lifted one foot and pressed firmly into your shoulder, pushing you back. The same foot came down and tapped the ground sharply.

"I don’t understand," you murmured.

"Not my feet," he commanded. "Only the ground on which I walk."

You immediately obeyed. You had never once thought of your floor as erotic, but now you were practically dripping from the texture of it beneath your lips.

"Do you think you are worthy to lie with a god?" His voice was pure silk.

"No," you answered softly. You had panted for this moment for ages, but now that it had come, you realized the truth of that. You were not worthy. You deserved nothing.

"Your abasement is sweet, like streams of crystal water. I drink of it; I bathe in it; I revel in it. Oh how Thor enjoys playing savior to his pathetic mortals. He is modest so they might worship him more for his meekness. I do not humble myself. I am a god."

You pictured Loki’s words flowing down like liquid and pooling on the floor, where you lapped them eagerly.

"Here is truth. You are glorious. You are fearful and wonderful. Your mortal body, bones like brittle sticks, sinew that ages and degrades, simple and feeble mind, hide covered in dead skin and invisible creatures, binds within it a soul, indestructible and flawless as Draupnir."

Tears started to prick your eyes. Loki set one boot gently on the back of your neck.

"You are a marvel to rival all the suns of the universe." His words vibrated in your chest like a high-voltage current. "Let Thor strut and preen. It is I who walk in the chaos of your fragile world, in the dark places where dwells hopelessness and endless night."

The boot pressed in further.

"You could not love me if I were not terrible."

You began to feel lightheaded from the pressure on your neck.

"So let me ask you once more and do not make me ask again. Are. You. Worthy?"

You were overtaken by a weird and utterly new emotion. It was humility without humiliation. The chains of a society, which had all of your life told you that independence and control were the measures of worth, broke. Here under Loki’s heel, you had neither independence, nor control. Under Loki’s heel, you served the purpose you had been made for. Your place was to serve, to grovel on your knees, to beg and cry. With dignity and purpose. Shame and self-loathing had no place here.

How had you ever questioned that this was your place?

"Yes. I am worthy."

The pressure vanished. “Good. I need a plus one for an event tonight. That will be you. Dress in your finest.”

In the bedroom, your hands were shaking like a phone left on vibrate. Loki had asked you on a date! To a fancy party, apparently. You cursed that you didn’t have nicer formal wear.

As it turned out, your wardrobe choice didn’t matter. With one look and a dismissive wave of his hand, Loki remade your outfit. The fabric, the cut, the accessories all changed. It was the version of your outfit that would have cost $700 more than you had actually paid. A similar motion clad Loki in a suit which probably had a tag value of your yearly salary.

"Where are we going?" You wondered aloud.

"The mayor of New York is hosting a campaign fundraiser ball for his more… generous supporters."

"I didn’t know you supported him. Isn’t he a fan of the Avengers?"

"Any friend of Thor’s is, naturally, a friend of mine." Loki lied with flawless, earnest sincerity. It was creepy.

~~~

The hall was packed with the kind of people you only saw on television and in fashion magazines. At least two hundred, all in very expensive evening wear. Your heart was beating like a rabbit. Your suspicions had been justified when Loki brought you in by an employee entrance, skirting security in a fog of darkness.

"Why are we here?" You quietly hissed.

"Oh, just a bit of fun." Loki’s smile set flutters in your stomach. "It will be marvelous!"

The ballroom was of the tastefully inoffensive type found in very expensive hotels. Three enormous double doors took up the first wall. Mirrors lined two of the walls. A floor to ceiling windowed view of the city occupied the fourth wall, opposite the doors. There were red velvet drapes with tassels in the corners. Three spectacular, tiered chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The floor was of dark marble.

A long marble table stood in the center of the room. It might serve at times as a podium or a conference table or a vip dining table. For this evening’s party, it was draped in white tablecloths and spread with a lavish buffet. Ornate silver platters and bowls filled with expensive delicacies spanned the entire length, along with stacks of fine china plates and baskets holding linen napkins and polished silverware.

Nobody paid the slightest mind to an attractive, well-dressed couple making their way to this focal center of the room. Once the two of you were standing in place, table before you, window behind, Loki clapped his hands together. It made a sound like the breaking of a thousand crystal goblets. You winced. Conversation ceased. Everyone turned instantly to stare at the two of you.

"Your attention for a moment!" Loki shouted.

As his infamous glowing eyes registered on the crowd there were screams. Things dropped. A dash for the doors, which all slammed shut and locked.

Finding themselves trapped, the ball-goers turned back to watch Loki. Not so impressive now, you thought. You knew you should feel bad for them. They looked like fearful children, shivering in their fancy clothes. Yet all you felt was contempt. That two hundred could stand in fear of one person. They were pathetic. Were these the eyes by which Loki saw your species all the time?

"Citizens! I am so pleased to be here in support of our illustrious mayor. With your permission—" an ironic smile, "—I will provide a demonstration of what this man has done and plans yet to do for the mortals of this city.

"Oh, I love roleplaying. Don’t all of you? I will be the mayor and this wench, " he pulled you forward, "will be the common, decent man of New York."

The space between Loki’s hand on your neck and a dozen dishes crashing to the floor as you were thrown bodily over the marble tabletop was the space of a heartbeat. The white tablecloth tangled around your legs. The punch bowl splashed its cold and sticky contents over your breasts.

With no effort at all, he grasped your ankles and flipped you onto your stomach, yanking hard. Your legs slid off the side and the white linen bunched up under your breasts and chin. He crossed your wrists behind your back, swiftly looping the unbearably course length of his silk scarf around them, fixing your hands in the shape of a cross. Long fingers grasped your collar and ripped your garments open from neck to heel.

A shocked gasp escaped from several throats, but nothing else. This room full of the richest and most powerful and not one voice was raised in protest. Cowards!

Loki kicked your legs apart. Manacles fastened around them, holding them open. You had no idea where in the smooth floor they could be attached to, but they held utterly firm against your struggles.

Your sex was helplessly exposed, granted privacy only by the solid weight of Loki’s body behind you. The cold metal buckle of his belt pressed into your secret places.

"Loki, please…" You had no idea what you were begging for.

"Silence, you fucking cunt!" He roared. "Speak again and I will cut your tongue from your throat."

His tie was suddenly wound in two layers between your lips and tied off at the base of your skull. Under here Loki slipped his hand, pulling your head up as one might yank the bit of a harnessed animal. By turning your head a bit, you saw his reflexion in the mirrored walls. His hair brushed his collar. His chin was tilted up. He held your naked form with the casual grace of a skilled trainer checking an unruly pet and the sight made you lightheaded.

His other hand descended on your bare ass with a crack that echoed from the farthest walls. Behind the gag, you howled.

"No!" Finally, someone who had some balls. A tall fat woman with blonde hair stepped forward. "Please don’t hurt her. You don’t need to do this!"

She collapsed to the floor.

"Unconscious," Loki said quietly, at your distressed look.

Something warm and hard rubbed itself in the cleft between your ass cheeks and moved slowly down. Up and down, over and over, slowly descending between your spread legs. Your brain was drifting away from you, overwhelmed by sensations. It took a ridiculously long time to identify the rod pressing into the wet outer folds of your valley, fondling lazily up and down.

The words came to you just as Loki slammed mercilessly home. Loki’s cock. Which was now inside, stretching apart the delicate inner walls. Thick and hot and forced so deep inside of you that it hurt.

You orgasmed with a scream that was more pain than pleasure. You might have blacked out for a second. Loki didn’t pause. He didn’t ask if he was hurting you; he knew that he was.

With your head forced up, you could easily see the faces of those dozens of hostages who were standing in front of you. The closest was still ten or fifteen feet away. They did not dare move any closer. You met their horrified gazes unashamedly and glared at their worthlessness. This is what Loki meant, then. Your courage unmasked their pitiful fear.

Loki slipped his fingers in a bowl of strawberry dipping sauce which had survived the wreck of the table. He smeared the blood red sweetness over your lips. You worked your tongue a little past the gag to catch a taste of it.

With a basket of napkins and a tablecloth close to hand, Loki wiped his dirty hand in your hair.

He lifted that hand in a grand sweeping gesture to include all present and grinned manically. It was the trademark flight from reality grin that made all fear him. Not all, you reminded yourself. Just those arrogant fools who could not humble themselves before true power.

"Citizens! Is this not obscene? But no. This is a sight you are well used to. The violent destruction of others is your bread and daily business. Do you think I merely cause chaos and destruction? No. I am with… I am in… I am chaos. I walk with the people you have destroyed. I see your sins and. You. Will. Be. Punished!"

This was punctuated with harder thrusts. You moaned incoherently and your head thrashed side to side.

"This is my contribution to your campaign. To rip the mask from your lewdness and corruption."

A wet slurping sound accompanied each thrust, causing a furious blush on your cheeks and neck. You vaguely registered dim noises in the corridor outside.

Loki bent down to thrust his tongue in your ear and whisper words meant for you alone.

"Take my cock, you dirty slut. Make me come," he panted. His hand fisted in your flesh, not on your hip or shoulder or other convenient handhold, but right on the back of your ribcage in the skin beside your spine. "Just look at you. Spread out before me like a sacrifice in my honor.”

A sharp nip to the top of your ear, followed by a ripping, vicious bite. You screamed, this time more in pleasure than in pain. “A votary who knows their place. Shall I brand it on you? Loki’s filthy little fucktoy. Property of Loki. You were made to be ruled.”

He straightened and resumed his echoing, sibilant tones.

"Yes. You know you have sinned in darkness." He grinned victoriously. "This is prophecy: only a true liar can bring truth to light. Mortals! This is your light."

Loki hefted you from the table by a free arm snaked under your stomach. You were suspended by three points of contact: the irons around your legs, the arm around your hips, and the hand grasping your gag bit. The arm on your hips slammed you down on his erection. His hips snapped up to meet it. The other hand yanked viciously downward on the bit, turning your whole body into an agonizing c-shaped curve.

The force of your second orgasm wrenched through every muscle and nerve in your body. You felt it in your tongue, your toes, and sparking behind your eyes. Two more such thrusts and you felt Loki’s cum drenching inside of you. His orgasm was totally silent, master of his voice even in the throes of passion.

Loki lowered you gently back to the table. The linen felt rough, the marble cold, on your oversensitive skin. Your lungs seemed to have forgotten something important about how to function.

Captain America’s booming voice could be heard outside the door.

"Oh, that’s my cue to leave." Loki laughed. So low as to be almost inaudible, he whispered into your ear, "See to my reputation, thrall. Tell them I kidnapped and raped you."

"What—"

Loki was already vanished.

He left you tied to the table, clothes in ruins, bites and bruises raising all over your skin, legs spread, his cum still seeping from your body… the damsel in distress, waiting to be rescued by the heroes. You had never felt so humiliated, taken, used, debased in your life. You had never felt so powerful or so good.


End file.
